Diary of a divorced guy.

Nov 17, 2010

Dear Diary,

Today started out like any other day. My alarm went off at 4:15. I hit the snooze button twice, giving me 14 extra minutes before I had to get up. I made my way to the kitchen to put on my coffee. I was excited! Yesterday I had bought a new can of coffee at the Walmart. Master Chef, a brand I was unfamiliar with but it was on a price roll back. 2.38 for a 2lb can! It stated on the label it made 48 pots of coffee. At twelve cups per pot that's 576 cups of coffee! Divide 576 cups into 2.38 and that's 0.00413 per cup. Or 1/4 a cent per cup. Certainly affordable enough. My regular brand "Folgers" is one of the many cutbacks I've been forced to make in a effort to reign in cost, trying to adjust to a one income household verses a two income one. Not a big savings but factored in with all the other changes it all adds up! Other things like lighting candles at night to save electricity, driving below 50mph to save on fuel costs, canceling cable TV and watching old re-runs of Hee-Haw and Gunsmoke on the Internet. It all adds up. As I wait for the coffee to brew I suddenly become aware that the front window shade, directly behind me, is partly open from last night. I realize I'm wearing the pair of underwear with the big rip in the back. The pair that exposes most of my left buttock cheek. My "comfortable" underwear. I had bought a new 5 pair pack a couple of years ago and I just didn't like them. Too tight and constrictive. Too supportive. I preferred my older, well worn, broken in pairs. Briefs but with the support of boxers with the well worn fabric up front. Heck, if you scratched yourself to hard up front there you could rip the fabric and poke your finger right through them. I really have to be careful with them. I ran over and shut the blinds. Soon my coffee was done brewing. I choose my favorite coffee mug, my White Star Travel Company mug given to me by my brother-in-law Nick. This mug was part of a ten dollar box of goodies I had received from him for Christmas about twelve years ago. Still my favorite mug! (That's NOT the White Star Company that owned the Titanic FYI) As I pour my first cup I noticed this coffee seemed to be a little thicker, a little darker, it seemed to have a heavier consistency then most coffees. I added my normal dose of milk and the blackness didn't change. I added some more and the color did seem to lighten a little. I slowly took a sip and grimaced at the taste. My bowels immediately sensed something was wrong, like a foreign substance was trying to invade. It's taste was a mixture of burnt wood ashes and warm urine from a old, disease ridden horse about a week away from the glue factory. I swore I could feel my facial stubble growing. I added more milk. Nothing happened. This was a coffee so strong and black that puny, light skinned African Americans would be jealous. I bit the bullet and quickly finished that cup of joe, looking forward to brewing that 48th pot of it. As the caffeine started to kick in I began to think of the upcoming day. Work of course, 6;30 to 3;00. Maybe today I would stop at the grocery store on the way home and buy a nice steak, do a cheese au gratin potato casserole, steam some fresh broccoli. After dinner I could finally start that exercise regimen that included walked around the neighborhood two times (2.3 miles), then swimming 7 or 8 laps around the Olympic sized swimming pool. Maybe I would go door to door at my apartment complex knocking and introducing myself and offering to be of any assistance I could be for whatever? Maybe I would start writing that book of poetry I had been putting together in my head. I'm happy and whistling as I shave and shower, preparing for work. I pack my lunch before I leave (remember, save money). Ham and cheese sandwich, chips, a orange, my "dessert", a chocolate Little Debbie cupcake. Work went well. We had a new girl working with us no one had ever seen before. Everyone wondered, is she nice? Single? Full-time, Part-time? Not bad looking but certainly no beauty pageant winner. Miss Congeniality maybe, but no top three winner. Near the end of the day someone said they heard her talking about her husband and four kids. Oh well, so much for that. I left work and on the way home I decide against the steak dinner. I remembered that the pizza place down the road is running that special One large, two topping pizza for ten bucks. Ten dollars and it's done. No preparing, cooking or cleaning up afterward. After I get home and have a few slices I then decide to postpone the exercise program. I'll try to start that tomorrow after a more healthy dinner. I also think it's probably too late to start going around knocking on the neighbors doors and introducing myself. Who goes around knocking on peoples doors at dinner time these days? Jehovah Witnesses? People with bad intentions? Someone with pictures of starving animals in some third world country wanting a donation so they could purchase half a bowl of food scraps to ease the poor animals suffering. People might think I'm half loopy doing something like that at this hour. I checked my email. Just the regular spam ones that seem to come everyday. Invitations to get in on class action lawsuits against the asbestos companies (do they still exist?). Work at home offers that promise to pay 5,000.00 a month part-time. Offers for cheaper car insurance then what I'm paying for now. The latest hot electronic gadgets for a third of their normal price. Cheap diplomas I can receive by taking just one one hour class on-line a week. Hot and horny single women living within a five mile radius of me, willing to do anything to be with a man. Any man. I deleted them all and checked the GoldenYears.com website. Tonight they were going to show a two hour blooper special on that old game show Match Game. That Charles Nelson Reilly was quite the ham! Anyway, it's getting late. I'd better hit the sack now. Tomorrows another day.